Sunday, July 28, 2013

For months I have said, “I’m going to take a rescue break. I’m not going to foster anymore dogs.” And for just that long, the universe has
said: “No, not yet…”

That’s sort of how this situation went down two weeks
ago. I got a call from a friend Julie,
who explained she was on her way to help another friend with a stray dog that
she had caught.

She went on to explain that her friend was at a very busy
intersection unsuccessfully trying to catch this little dog, had given up, was
walking back to her car, and heard the dog screaming. She ran back to see what was wrong, and he had
fallen into a pond and was drowning. She
lassoed the dog and quickly pulled him to safety. At that point he started freaking out from
being on a leash, and was “alligator rolling” trying to get away. In my mind I was thinking, “Oh, just a little
dog being a little dog. He is freaked out
but will be just fine in a day or two.”

I have never been more wrong….

Julie brings me this boy, who is pressed so tightly up
against the back wall of the crate, that I was expecting the impression of cage
bars on him when I reached into the kennel to remove him.

Usually this is the point where I would get bit and draw
back a bleeding appendage, but that was too predictable for this boy! Instead when I reached in to pick him up, he
promptly barfed up 2 cups of food on my hand and arm. In my mind I was quietly chanting: “I love dogs.
I love dogs. It is okay that you
just vomited up warm, semi chewed food all over me. I love dogs....”

I carry him into the house, Julie was in charge of carrying
the cage full of vomit (small price to pay really…) and we set off to bathe the
little prince. Now, my bathroom is small,
(It’s honestly the size of a shoebox...) and I’m bent over the tub scrubbing
the heck out of this dog watching the fleas and ticks fall off him, when I hear
Julie, who is standing behind me say: “Don’t panic. Hold still.”(Never something you want someone to say when standing behind you!) I immediately froze and Julie in the calmest
voice ever says: “I think that’s a tick
on your back.” Suddenly, I hear the
Reluctant Farmer scream from behind the closed bathroom door: “Just hold
still! I’ll get it!” She knows her role in this relationship soWELL! Secretly, I think she was worried
about Julie’s safety. There is not
enough room in this bathroom for me to freak out and do my “bug dance”.

For those of you that have never been privileged enough to
witness my “bug dance”, it entails screaming, jumping up and down, the flailing
of arms, and occasionally the shedding of clothes. (Think Tom Cruise during the infamous Oprah couch
interview, but worse because I am naked.
Which is almost as scary as Tom Cruise, but an entirely different blog
post…) So now, we have 3 women, 1 dog, and 1 dead tick squeezed into the
postage stamp sized lavatory. Crisis averted!

It isn’t long before we realize this little dog had some BIG
issues! He isn’t your average “I’m
scared and out of my element, but I can be bribed” little dog. He is an all out “I’ve never been around
humans, not lived indoors, hunt for my own food” sort of dog.

There were a few things about this dog that set him apart
from any other dog I had ever fostered:

1)He tried to escape through any window, door or
screen that he came into contact with, and would climb on any surface that
might get him a little closer to the escape route.

2)He would be as quiet as a mouse in his crate
during the day, but as soon as the lights were off he would scream like he was
being killed.(The trainer says this is
a sure sign he had been running for a while.He is afraid of the dark because he knows he has the possibility of
being something’s pray.)

3) This dog was scared out of his mind of any and
all humans.

All of this behavior was enough to make some think
euthanasia was the best option for him. But,
there would be one thing that would save his life. This dog, as feral as he was, showed no
aggression towards people. In the end, I
would try to rehab and save this dog, purely on this fact alone. Success?
Well, that remains to be seen, but what I do know is that death is
permanent and I couldn’t sleep at night if I didn’t give this little guy a chance. There will be more about this boy
in the days to come.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

As I ponder about a dog that may or may not ever recover from the traumas that were inflicted on by humans*, the life of rescue has pretty much sucked for the last week, except for one bright shiny spot: Nabb, my foster for Tri State Collie Rescue found his forever home!

His family flew all the way in from Georgia to adopt him, and fell in love with him instantly. It is evident that he loves them too! Here is the photographic proof that rescue is worth all the heartache and frustration, which is just the reminder I needed tonight....

Clearly he thinks he it the king of his new castle!

Nabb and his new brother at Petco!

It's a long ride from Ohio to Georgia, but well worth it for the perfect home...

They call it a love seat because it is meant to be shared....

Doesn't he just look so happy?! Congrats my love, you deserve the best!

* As you all know, there will be a blog post about my newest rescue project in due time. I ask for a bit of privacy from the "activists" that read and frequently send harsh email to me about my rescues until I have a few more things figured out. The reality is that rescue is not always fuzzy bunnies and rainbows, thank you for your understanding...

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Last night we went over to the Remy Homestead to enjoy their company and to swim in their pool. When we were there we decided to order pizza, and had an impromptu dinner party, and I was reminded just how lucky I am.

In life you don't get to pick your family, but you do get to pick your friends and if you are lucky you will find friends that are as close to you as family. I'm lucky in this way, unbelievably so!

Whether it be changing the locks on my house, jumping my car 3 times in a day, or rescuing dogs from all sorts of perilous positions, these guys have my back 100% of the time, and I would do anything for them as well. That's how this relationship and the rest of my relationships work. I want the type of friends that you love like family.

As I watch my daughter struggle thorough her middle school years and the friendships that come along with that, I pray she realizes it's not about the quantity of friends, it's the quality of friend's that matter. My, how life would have been so much easier if I had figured that out as a 13 year old instead of a 35 year old!

The friends I surround myself with now day are the most positive, honest, genuine, selfless people I know and I would be lost without them in my life....

Monday, July 15, 2013

When I got home Friday night, I was so excited for the weekend to begin. I hit the front door of my house, high on the promise of a great weekend, took a deep breath in, and promptly gagged.

The smell permeating from my house immediately made me recoil and beg God for mercy. Once I stopped dry-heaving and pleading with the heavens from the front yard, I decided to try and gain entry into the house again. I bargained with God: "God, if you could please make whichever dog that smell is coming from be a small dog, I promise to NEVER ask for anything again!" (I knew I couldn't honestly get that lucky....)

With tears streaming down my cheeks, and my shirt covering my nose and mouth, I glanced in the door and realized that the little dog's crate was clean.

Things went to hell in a hurry after that!

The only 2 dogs other dogs that could have produced this smell are both VERY large and VERY hairy. I peeked around the wall into my library, and crap!

Lots and lots of crap! And one very upset collie standing in the middle of it, pacing back and forth, splashing poop on anything within a 2 foot radius of his crate.

Now, I must interject at this point in the story, and tell you we just made the move to "go green" and stop using paper towels. Who does that?! Certainly no one with 6 dogs! (We are currently renegotiating this idea!)

So there I stand, shocked by the sight and not really sure how to tackle the mess before me. After several moments I realized the ONLY way to clean this up would be to carefully extract the collie out of the crate, not making eye contact because that induces tail wagging, which causes poop flinging, and human puking. But, this boy processes an exuberance for life, and it then dawned on my that it might just be best to slide the entire crate out the front door, with the dog in it, so I could wash both dog and crate off in the front yard. I really felt like a genius!

Then I went to the grocery store and bought the biggest case of paper towels I could find and started on the rest of the room, and 6 rolls later, even though many trees had to die, my house smelled better! Sort of like a porta-john in mid May versus mid August....

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Saturday morning The Reluctant Farmer declared that we
should go berry picking at a local farm that is known for growing the best
berries in our area, and since we missed strawberry season, and were
dangerously close to being out of jam, I eagerly agreed. When we arrived at the farm we were told they
had black raspberries in season, and out into the field we went.

The field was very wet and muddy due to the massive amount of
rain that we’ve received lately, but with the rain has come cooler temperatures,
which is a Godsend for berry picking! We
both took our time and worked up and down the rows of brambles, loading up our
baskets and brought home 4 quarts of berries.
I was amazed how beautiful these berries were, and I kept remarking
about how perfect they looked, and they smelled even better than they
looked!

As we were leaving the farm my mom called and told us that
her neighbor had a huge crop of red raspberries that were going to waste, and
wanted to know if we would be interested in any of those. Not one to turn down produce of any kind, let
alone organic berries, off we went. We
were able to harvest an additional 4 quarts of red raspberries off of those
bushes.

With 8 quarts of berries, there was little else we could do
except have a jam session on Saturday night.
This year’s recipe is both simple, and guaranteed to put a smile on your
face when served over vanilla ice cream. The
following recipe is a simple jam recipe that even the most novice canner can master.

Simple Raspberry Jam

5 ¼ c. of raspberries

7 c. of sugar

1 package of powdered fruit pectin (1.75 oz)

Mash berries in a stainless steel pot. Stir in pectin and bring to a boil, stirring
occasionally. Add sugar, and continue to
stir, until mixture reaches a hard boil.
Then stir constantly for 1 minute, afterwards turning off heat and
filling jars. Leave ¼ inch head
space. Process jars in water bath canner
for 10 minutes. Makes 8 half-pints of
jam.

When I posted on my Facebook page that we were going to make
jam this weekend, I had several people that wanted to learn to make jam, but
were afraid to try. I promise you this
is the easiest way to prepare food, and once you get the hang of it you will be
amazed by just how much food you are able to preserve with such little
effort. If you are interested in
canning, go to the library get yourself a book on canning and start reading. (I recommend Ball’s Blue Book Guide to
Preserving.) Grab a friend too and you
can have your own jam session. You won’t
be able to buy the memories that you create together in a store, and if you
need any help or have any questions I’m just one “click” away!

Monday, July 1, 2013

Last night I went out to the chicken coop and noticed one of
my hens was off by herself. This is not that
uncommon for this particular chicken.
She is somewhat of a loner, and I have said for several months that
something looks “off” about her. I called
her over to me and she came hopping over, clearly not using her left leg. The Reluctant Farmer scooped her up, turned
her over and I examined her leg. It wasn’t
swollen, hot or deformed. She just
wouldn't use it, and you could tell it was painful. I watched her for a while and she just kept
flipping the lifeless leg out in front of her.
It was such an effort for her to get back inside the coop that she would
just lie down by the ramp instead of going inside to roost or eat.

I thought about separating her from the rest of the flock,
but after discussing it with a friend, who is more knowledgeable on chicken
illnesses, it was decided that the best thing would be to just put her out of
her misery. And with the help of Brent,
that is just what we did. It was fast,
painless, and she is no longer suffering.

I know there are people that won’t agree with this decision,
and there will be people that will insist I should have taken her to the
veterinarian, had x-rays performed, etc.
However, at the end of the day, this is a farm, not a petting zoo. It is not a wise business decision to spend hundreds of dollars on a small fraction of your livestock. I have to protect the rest of my flock from
the possibility of contracting a deadly disease and more importantly, I never want any
animal in my care to suffer.

Sometimes in life, death is not the worst thing that can
happen to a living being….